Clay rubs his hands together. “I’m on my way to see the Glube man.”
I blink, surprised, and lower my voice. “I didn’t know anyone actually visited that store,” I confess.
“That’s the reason I’m headed there,” Clay says.
Nicholas nods. “The building is falling into dangerous disrepair. And its prominent placement at the top of the gayborhood makes that a noticeable problem.”
I glance up the block, where I can just make out the store behind the bustle of the street. “A problem for your carpentry crew to solve?” I ask Clay.
“Hopefully. You know my boss. Sue likes to take on community projects, and she’s convinced the building might out and collapse one day. Based on the apparent lack of sales, Xander the Glube man is unlikely to have the funds to renovate,so I’m approaching him to see if we can support. Connect him to grants, donate some labor, that sort of thing.”
“New deliveries of Glube ingredients go in,” Nicholas muses, “but you never seem to see Glube going out. It’s a mystery.” He takes Clay’s hand. “I’m just along for the stroll. How’s The Scoop today?”
I sigh. “Unfortunately, we might be headed off track again. The garage has launched a campaign to correct their image, and it may be tilting public opinion against us.” I glance to Clay. “Sue has the right idea. It seems like the carpentry crew only takes on missions of goodwill, no neighborhood drama allowed.”
Clay chuckles. “Actually, that’s why she’s sending me on this particular errand. Sue has a long-standing grudge with Xander. Apparently, in the eighties, something unforgivable happened involving a magnolia tree, a birthday party, and pink champagne. I didn’t get the details.”
“But she’s still trying to find a way to help him out,” I note.
“The gayborhood comes first for Sue,” Nicholas says. “She’s lived here long enough for her fair share of dramas, but I’ve never seen her let them get in the way of what she wants to accomplish for the community.”
I nod. “That’s how I want to approach this situation with the garage, although I just got a letter from Chase that reasserts their right to be loud. Anyway, whatever tensions exist on the block, this isn’t a zero-sum game. I know we can all thrive if we choose to work together.” I notice someone arguing across the street with a biker and shake my head.
Kavya walks up to us, a basket of flowers on her arm. “If it isn’t my favorite guys.” She looks to Nicholas and Clay. “How’s the Glube man?”
Nicholas laughs. “We’re still on the way, actually. You’re lapping us.”
Clay looks to me. “We left half an hour ago,” he explains. “Nicholas had to talk to everyone we passed.”
Kavya sets the flowers on a patio table. “As expected. There’s always something new to report in the gayborhood.”
“Making the deliveries?” I ask.
“It’s speed dating tonight at the Skylight Lounge. Just dropping off bouquets for the tables.” She tilts her head slightly to the side. “What if you went, and your secret pen pal was also there? Although even then, would it be worth it if you had to speed-date?”
I laugh. “No need.” I glance around to make sure no one passing is listening in. “We agreed to meet up.”
Nicholas’s mouth forms a perfect surprised O.
“A date?” Kavya asks.
I shrug. “We still haven’t even exchanged names. He’s in the western part of the state, too. I suggested Buffalo as a convenient location, but worded it carefully so I didn’t reveal that this is my home. I don’t want to move too fast, but, I figured, why not give it a chance?” I look across the street to the garage. “It can’t be a worse idea than my other recent entanglement.”
Nicholas smiles. “Hopefully it will be just as combustible, but in a different way.”
I nod. “I’m not opposed to casual fun, but you know I’m really looking for a serious relationship. Something deep and committed. A new friend would be nice, too. We’ll see what happens.”
“Kind of cool you don’t even know what he looks like,” Clay says.
“Devastatingly sexy with a brawny but geeky vibe, I hope.”
“So… like you-know-who?” Kavya teases with a nod across the street.
“Hey now,” I object with a laugh. “That’s not how I meant it.”
A man passing by on a moped slows in front of the garage. “I stand by the bikers!” he yells out to no one in particular, then speeds off. As Kavya raises a confused eyebrow to me, I yell out after the moped as friendly as I can.
“As do I! There’s room in the gayborhood for everyone!” I turn to Kavya. “There’s more to the story,” I say.
